


Some Days Are Harder

by GEGabriels



Series: G.E.Gabriels' Les Mis Sickfics [12]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fever, Grantaire is a Good Boyfriend (Les Misérables), Grief/Mourning, M/M, Rain, Sickfic, Stomach Ache, stomach flu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27258940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GEGabriels/pseuds/GEGabriels
Summary: "It is not your fault. It never was. Remember that I always love you," Grantaire whispered, kissing Enjolras' forehead, frowning, "I'm getting the thermometer," He informed, before leaving the room. Enjolras staggered to his feet the moment Grantaire left, grabbing his phone, slipping it into his pocket, and heading out of the door on shaky legs, suddenly uncomfortable. He stepped out of the apartment building about a minute later, shivers already racking through his body, as the freezing rainwater pelted down onto him. He pushed himself forward, almost nobody else out on the streets in the rain, and the few that were giving him strange looks. All he had on was a red sweater and black pants. Not very warm wearing. Whatever.Enjolras falls sick while struggling to grieve a devastating loss, and Grantaire tries his best to communicate with his boyfriend.
Relationships: Combeferre & Courfeyrac & Enjolras (Les Misérables), Combeferre & Enjolras (Les Misérables), Courfeyrac & Enjolras (Les Misérables), Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Series: G.E.Gabriels' Les Mis Sickfics [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896514
Comments: 10
Kudos: 25





	Some Days Are Harder

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Running out in the freezing rain without telling anyone where you're going is not a recommended activity. Thank you.

Enjolras had known it was going to be a bad day right from the start when he had woken up an entire three minutes late. To any normal person, this wouldn't seem like a big deal, but it was unacceptable in Enjolras' books. Thankfully, Grantaire had shaken him awake with a cheery,

"Wake up, buttercup." If you were not a close friend or boyfriend to Grantaire, you would assume that he would in no way be a morning person. But, while Grantaire did like to sleep in late, he also was fully awake once woken up. This made no sense to Enjolras, especially considering the fact that Grantaire suffered from insomnia, and often didn't go to sleep until after two. However, even after dating Grantaire for two years, a lot of things still didn't make sense about the man, and Enjolras doubted they ever would. Grantaire was just… Grantaire. That was one way to put it. Enjolras had immediately rushed to get his act together after the sudden awakening, and as such, had ended up ready to head to work fifteen minutes early in the kitchen. Grantaire had, of course, laughed at this, and patted Enjolras shoulder, passing him a muffin and a banana,

"I know you didn't care to eat yet," Grantaire commented, Enjolras smiling. Grantaire knew him so well, and Enjolras knew Grantaire just as well in turn. He was fairly sure that this was true love.

"How is it you're so positive at times, and then so negative at others?" Enjolras asked Grantaire, Grantaire smirking,

"Oh, I just have better ways of… Expressing, my negativity in the mornings, rather than on living people or myself," Grantaire replied. Ah, now that slightly disturbing picture of the decapitated dude Enjolras had found in Grantaire's dresser was starting to make sense, "By the way, don't miss your appointment today," Grantaire said, glancing at the calendar that was hanging up next to the refrigerator.

"Which one?" Enjolras asked, Grantaire sighing,

"Grief Counseling," Grantaire responded, Enjolras visibly stiffening.

"I don't want to," He instantly said, Grantaire walking over to Enjolras and laying a hand on his shoulder, kissing his cheek.

"I know you don't, baby, but I think It's good for you to talk about it with a professional," Grantaire countered. Enjolras shook his head,

"I don't want to talk about it!" He exclaimed, sounding every bit like a petulant three-year-old. Grantaire crossed his arms,

"There's a difference between what you _want_ to do, and what you _need_ to do, and it's high time you learned the difference. Enjolras, I haven't seen you shed a single tear over this, you _need_ to be expressing your emotions, or else they'll just end up bottled up inside of you, trust me!" Grantaire argued. Enjolras crossed his arms as well,

"Maybe people just grieve differently," He retorted. Grantaire shook his head,

"I watched you after your mother's death, Enjolras, you acted entirely different than you do now. You were more… Open. You actually sought out comfort for once, in Courfeyrac and Combfe-" Enjolras breath caught in his throat, and he threw the banana and muffin on the counter, because screw food, before grabbing his things and heading out the door. He wouldn't let Grantaire see the tears pricking in his eyes.

During work, Enjolras noticed a distinct, almost sort of cramping sensation in his stomach, which he ignored, of course. However, the sensation kept growing more and more noticeable, and it turned into a constant pain, that had him doubled over in his seat. Enjolras simply gritted his teeth, forcing himself through the day. By the time he had finished up at work and was walking towards the Musain, he was exhausted, and the pain was unbearable. He walked slumped and slowly, entering the back room of the Musain. He was greeted with an array of faces as he did. Most were bright, like they had forgotten the pain of five months. Or perhaps chosen to forget. Jehan's face was just as blank as Enjolras', and they locked eyes for a second, a silent show of support, before Enjolras walked over to Grantaire.

"Hey," Grantaire whispered, Enjolras giving him a short nod. They didn't kiss each other. No, not in the Musain in front of everyone, but instead took each other's hands, blue eyes meeting brown, before Enjolras pulled away, walking to the front of the room. He began his speech, desperate for the meeting to be over, as his stomach became increasingly uncomfortable, and he grew increasingly chilled. His speech was dull, as it usually was these days, the fire that had once dominated them simply a small ember. All that was left. Enjolras scanned the room, looking at the faces of his friends. They deserved better. They deserved the fire. But Enjolras didn't know if he could give it to them. He closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, before opening them. He imagined Combeferre and Courfeyrac, right where they used to sit, Combeferre with a thoughtful look, and Courfeyrac with a bright smile. They were his biggest supporters. He imagined them encouraging him, passion shining in their eyes. And slowly, fire and ferocity crept their way into his voice, and he continued the speech, the Les Amis looking both stunned, and pleased.

They cheered, as the speech ended, and Enjolras sat down with Grantaire, letting Joly read off the announcements for the group. Their approval warmed him, even as a few shivers made their way through his body, as the room was still strangely cold. But it wasn't their approval he longed for.

"Nice job, champ," Grantaire whispered, before actually paying attention to Joly for once. Enjolras took the few minutes Joly spoke to relax his body before he had to go up to continue the meeting. The rest of the meeting went by smoothly, Enjolras grabbing his stuff as quickly as possible, waiting for Grantaire to grab his, and making his way out the door, Grantaire following.

"Any reason you're in a hurry?" Grantaire asked, Enjolras shrugging, taking all of the coins he had in his pocket, and handing them to a bedraggled young woman balancing a toddler on her hip, holding a sign that read, " **Plz giv so my son can eat** " Enjolras made a mental note, telling himself to speak with the woman tomorrow if she was still there, and see if he could help her in any other way.

"I think I have the most selfless boyfriend on Earth," Grantaire said, as he and Enjolras continued walking. Enjolras shrugged,

"I'm sure anyone else would do the same," He replied, Grantaire shaking his head,

"Nah, look at all the upper-class people who don't spare her a second glance," He muttered, looking disgusted. Enjolras smiled,

"But look at all of those who do," He said, and they watched a girl who couldn't be more than 7 take the sandwich she had most likely been planning to eat out of her picnic basket, and hand it to the woman.

"Combeferre… Always used to tell me to look for the good people in every bad situation. There's always _someone_ , doing something to help," Enjolras murmured, Grantaire smiling,

"That sounds like something he'd say," He replied softly, as they made their way up to Grantaire's apartment. They both walked in, Grantaire locking the door behind him. Enjolras kicked his shoes off beside the doorway, before going straight to the couch, and laying down, after placing his things on the coffee table. Grantaire gave him a warm smile, sitting down on the floor next to him.

"Tough day?" Grantaire asked, Enjolras nodding, trying to snuggle deeper into the couch, craving the temporary relief of pain he got from it. His legs and arms ached along with his stomach, and his head was now hurting as well. Just a small throb for now, but Enjolras knew it would get worse.

"How was your day?" Enjolras asked, turning his head slightly, as it began to rain outside. He could see it through the brown-framed window.

"Ah, pretty good. Had some trouble with one person, got into a verbal sparring match. It was actually great fun," Grantaire began, going through the details of his day. Enjolras found Grantaire's voice soothing, and he might have been dozing off, but a sudden need snapped him back to attention. Enjolras clamped a hand over his mouth, the pain in his stomach near overwhelming now, and he staggered off towards the bathroom, Grantaire giving him a confused look. A few strings of spit and vomit hung out of his mouth, as he leaned over the toilet, heaving, and vomiting into it. He felt a hand on his shoulder, Grantaire, no doubt. He turned his head, tiredly meeting Grantaire's eyes. Grantaire gently placed the back of his hand on Enjolras' warm forehead, his usual emotionless expression softening.

"Oh, honey, you're sick," He murmured, Enjolras shaking his head,

"Got… Stuff from work to do," He muttered, "And the next speech." Grantaire shook his head, Enjolras stumbling to his feet.

"You done?" Grantaire asked as Enjolras flushed the toilet. Enjolras nodded, Grantaire grabbing the empty trash bin beside the sink, and setting it down next to the couch in the living room, beckoning Enjolras over. Enjolras snuggled back into the couch, Grantaire throwing a blanket over him.

"You can skip your appointment today," Grantaire said, kissing Enjolras' cheek, "I'm going to go get something for you to drink." Enjolras nodded, the ache in his stomach having abided, instead replaced with hunger. Enjolras had no desire to eat, though.

"Y'know," He said, as Grantaire walked back over, setting a cup of apple juice on the coffee table, next to Enjolras' work things, "It was my fault." Grantaire frowned for a second, trying to decipher what he met. Once he realized, his eyes widened.

"It wasn't your fault," Grantaire said, Enjolras shaking his head,

"It was! You know it was! If I had just gotten my bike fixed sooner, I wouldn't have had to ask them to pick me up from work for the meeting!" He exclaimed, a few tears trickling down his face. This probably wasn't the, "talking about it," that Grantaire wanted.

"A drunk driver killed Combeferre and Courfeyrac, it's not your fault, it's his!" Grantaire protested. Enjolras shook his head, more tears running down his face now,

" _But if they hadn't been driving to pick me up, they'd still be alive right now_!" He screamed. The two were silent, for a moment, before Grantaire placed his right hand on Enjolras' chest.

"It is _not_ your fault. It never was. Remember that I always love you _,_ " Grantaire whispered, kissing Enjolras' forehead, frowning, "I'm getting the thermometer," He informed, before leaving the room. Enjolras staggered to his feet the moment Grantaire left, grabbing his phone, slipping it into his pocket, and heading out of the door on shaky legs, suddenly uncomfortable. He stepped out of the apartment building about a minute later, shivers already racking through his body, as the freezing rainwater pelted down onto him. He pushed himself forward, almost nobody else out on the streets in the rain, and the few that were giving him strange looks. All he had on was a red sweater and black pants. Not very warm wearing. Whatever.

Enjolras pressed onward, each breath hurting, the chill in the air stinging everything, even the skin covered by his clothes. He continued walking for a good ten minutes before he found the place he was looking for. He felt his stomach begin to cramp again, but he ignored it. There it was. His own apartment building. He was eager to get out of the pouring rain that was pressing him down, and he stepped on the first stair a bit too quickly, slipping, and falling backward into a puddle, scraping multiple areas of his body. Great. Enjolras forced himself to his feet, making his way up the stairs, tears rolling down his face, each step taking more energy than the last. Finally, he made his way inside the apartment building… Only to have to climb up three more sets of stairs. Yipee. After braving those, he stuck his key into the keyhole, unlocking the door to the apartment.

He took a deep breath as he opened the door, sneezing at the dust that met his nose. It had been a while since he'd entered his apartment. After the accident, he couldn't bear to be in his own apartment and had gone to stay at Grantaire's. That had been 5 months ago. He hadn't been back since. Jehan had been there a few times, to clean it, and to collect Enjolras' essentials, and Mouse the cat.

Enjolras stepped forward, trembling, and dripping water on the floor. He stumbled, glancing out at the living room. It was almost like nothing had changed, other than the furniture and floor having accumulated quite a bit of dust, and a few cobwebs. There were Courfeyrac's comic books, and Combeferre's dictionary, and random books about moths laying side-by-side on the coffee table.

Enjolras made his way into the kitchen, wrinkling his nose at the smell. Quite a few things had gone bad, such as the oranges in the bowl on the counter, and the apples on the basket on top of the refrigerator. Combeferre had always insisted on having fresh fruit around, stating that it was healthy and convenient. Enjolras shuddered, falling backward, and steadying himself on the counter, his hand landing next to Combeferre's phone. A police officer had found Courfeyrac's phone on the… Body, shattered. Enjolras touched Combeferre's phone, expecting it to be drained of battery. It lit up, though, three percent remaining. Enjolras, with trembling hands, took out his own phone, which was wet, and slightly shattered from his earlier fall. Desperate for some way to communicate with Combeferre, even if it was fake. Scrolling through his contacts, he clicked on Combeferre's name.

**Combeferre:**

**5 months ago**

**Combeferre:** _You need to fix the bike._

**Enjolras:** _I don't have time right now._

**Combeferre:** _I can get it fixed for you._

 **Enjolras:** _Nah, I'll do it myself later. Love you. 3._

Combeferre: Love you too. 3.

Enjolras read the texts, more tears streaming from his eyes, his stomach beginning to throb again, upset by the smell of rotting food.

_**You are typing…** _

**Enjolras:** _Hi._

_**You are typing…** _

**Enjolras:** _Today was tough. I don't know why. It's like you always said though. Some days are harder._

_**You are typing...** _

**Enjolras:** _I love you. I love you so much._

_**You are typing** _

**Enjolras:** _Have a good day. I'll talk to you later._

Enjolras took a few shuddering breaths, and his body was racked by wretched sobs. There was a thundering knock on the door, and Enjolras backed up. Who would be knocking on the door? Oh, right, he had randomly disappeared on his boyfriend. That had probably concerned him. The door opened, and Grantaire rushed in, running over and embracing him. There were tears on Grantaire's cheeks too.

" _You're safe… Oh my God, you're safe,"_ Grantaire whispered, Enjolras crying even louder. Grantaire rubbed his back, waiting until the sobs subsided, before gently pushing Enjolras back. Enjolras gulped.

"DO YOU HAVE _ANY_ IDEA HOW WORRIED I WAS?!" Grantaire yelled, Enjolras flinching and shrugging, "Well I WAS," Grantaire exclaimed, "How would you react if your sick boyfriend went out in the _POURING_ rain, and you had only the _SLIGHTEST_ idea where he was, _HM?_!" A few more tears leaked out of Grantaire's eyes, and he hugged Enjolras again, "I can't lose you, Enjolras. I can't," He murmured. Enjolras swallowed, nodding, and melting into Grantaire's chest.

"How'd you get in?" Enjolras asked, his voice slightly muffled by Grantaire's shirt. Grantaire sighed,

"Went to Jehan and asked for the key. I thought you may have come here," He explained, "Now, you mind telling me what this was all about?" He asked. Enjolras bit his lip, not responding, "Please, Enjolras…"

"Some days are harder," Enjolras whispered. Grantaire's expression softened,

"I know, baby, I know… C'mon, let's go back home. Get you out of those wet clothes," Grantaire said, Enjolras nodding, exhausted and still trembling, his stomach beginning to hurt even more. Grantaire thankfully had driven over, so they didn't have to walk through the rain anymore. Instead, Enjolras simply collapsed into the side seat of Grantaire's car, leaning his head against the window, the warmth from the heater flooding through him, providing some form of relief to his freezing, aching limbs. Warm, and at least somewhat content, with Grantaire driving beside him, Enjolras fell into an uneasy sleep. He dreamt, sometimes. Usually about falling. Not from anything, or to anything. Just falling down deeper and deeper into the darkness. Sometimes he could hear screams and shouts around him. Other times, there was just silence. As he fell deeper. Grantaire shook him awake before his dreams could turn into anything of that sort.

"Hey, I know you're comfy, but I can't carry you upstairs," Grantaire murmured, Enjolras opening his sky-blue eyes, and nodding, forcing himself to his feet. Once they were back inside of Grantaire's apartment, and Enjolras had changed out of his clothes, which were sopping wet, he laid down on the couch, resting his head down on the pillow Grantaire had set on the couch's arm. He vomited what was left in his stomach into the bin beside the couch, groaning, before pulling the blanket around his shoulders, longing for Combeferre, and Courfeyrac.

"Combeferre and Courfeyrac would always take care of me when I was sick," Enjolras murmured, as Grantaire tidied up the living room.

"I know," Grantaire replied with a smile that warmed Enjolras up almost as much as the blanket and heater of the apartment did, as he moved Enjolras' work stuff off of the coffee table.

"Combeferre would always read to me… And he'd worry. But that was his way of showing that he cared. He would always kiss my forehead. I would do the same for him when he was ill. And Courfeyrac… His smile could light up the whole world. He brought so much joy wherever he went. He would always make me laugh, even though I pretended I was exasperated… Why… _Why did they have to go Grantaire_?" Enjolras' voice cracked and softened at the end, Enjolras brushing the tears back from his eyes. No more crying today.

"I don't know," Grantaire responded, stroking his hand across Enjolras' warm face, _"I don't know…_ " He took Enjolras' temperature with the thermometer he had abandoned on the couch in his hurried rush to find his missing boyfriend, "Pushing 103. Tummy bug," Grantaire reported, Enjolras snuggling deeper into the couch. Grantaire laid next to him, wrapping his arms around Enjolras, "Hey, talk to me next time, before things get this bad," Grantaire said. Enjolras nodded,

"I didn't think it was going to be bad today… It's just-" He started, Grantaire cutting him off,

"Some days are harder," He finished. Enjolras gave him a thin-lipped smile,

"You read my mind," He muttered, Grantaire grinning,

"Mhm… Courfeyrac and Combeferre, they would be so proud of you, Enjolras. They loved you so much. Don't you ever forget that. They're still your biggest supporters, angel. Courfeyrac's a part of the world. He's the sunlight, he's the rising dawn. He's every child with a smile on their face, every student with hope… And Combeferre…. Maybe he's with the God he believed in," Grantaire murmured, Enjolras nodding into his chest, a few lines of tears falling. They lay like that, for the rest of the night, after Grantaire coaxed Enjolras to drink a little bit of juice.

Some days were harder. The pain would never truly leave. But there were other people to fight for. And even if you think you have nothing to look forward to, nothing to count on, there's always the sunrise, as a long day ends, and a new, fresh, one begins. There's always tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> And I'm back with some angst! My dark mind came up with this, because why not.
> 
> The reason I haven't posted in a bit is because I have a piece that I should post soon about chickenpox as part of my, "Vaccinate, you fools," thing. Also I have a new kitten who is VERY attention-demanding, and is trying to eat my curtains as I write this. She's tiny and orange with blue eyes, and you have no idea how much I want to name her Enjolras.
> 
> Feel free to put a request for a Les Mis sickfic in the comments, I would love to take it!
> 
> Well, stay healthy and safe. Hope you enjoyed reading!


End file.
